Dumped at the Altar, I Married His Billionaire Uncle Instead

At the family marriage alliance banquet, I casually read the hexagrams for the Gilbert family to ward off disaster, and a single reading saved Old Mr. Gilbert's life.

Jeffrey Gilbert was overjoyed. On the spot, he sealed an additional $1.88 million betrothal gift for me.

He then announced that Gilbert Group would be placed under the management of my fiancé, John Gilbert.

I was to devote myself fully to helping John expand the family empire.

But just as the two families were negotiating the wedding, John's obsession burst into my Convent and smashed the incense altar I'd set up to pray for the Gilberts' fortune.

"You can't win his heart, so you use this superstitious garbage to bewitch him? Let me tell you something—he will never marry a fraud like you."

I gazed calmly at Celeste Pruitt, whose entire body radiated ill fortune and whose belly concealed a staggering deception.

"What you just destroyed was the Gilberts' blessing. Aren't you afraid of bringing ruin on the whole family?"

John Gilbert pulled Celeste into his arms like a show of dominance, smirking at me.

"Ivy Chambers, you spend all day playing fortune teller. Don't tell me you actually think some dusty little convent gives you control over the Gilbert family's billion-dollar empire? The only person you've ever fooled is my grandfather—a relic from another century."

"Celeste is carrying my child now. I won't let a Gilbert heir grow up on the streets. Let's call off the engagement."

I watched the dark cloud of misfortune creep slowly across John's forehead. I stood, brushed off the hem of my skirt, and said one word.

"Fine."

I turned and walked straight to the Rolls-Royce parked around the corner of the villa.

After all, he had been waiting here for three full years.

——

"If you marry me instead, the Gilbert Group's resources and tech teams will be at Chambers Corp's disposal, free of charge. Profit shares split sixty-forty."

"Sixty for you. Forty for me."

Inside the car sat Morton Gilbert, dressed in a dark jacquard suit, every inch of him radiating quiet authority. As he spoke, he slid a share transfer agreement across the leather seat toward me.

"As my personal betrothal gift, I've already transferred twenty percent of the company's shares into your name."

I looked at Morton, unable to hide my surprise.

"Mr. Gilbert, one minute ago I was still your nephew's fiancée. You were that certain I'd break off the engagement and choose you?"

Morton lifted his fingertips and traced them gently along my cheek. For the first time, that eternally glacial face softened into something unmistakably tender.

"Because the Buddha came to me in a dream. We're destined—a bond carried over from a past life."

He paused, as if reconsidering, then added, "Even without divine instruction, your fortune and your character alone would be worth waiting a lifetime for."

I looked at this man whose eyes held nothing but me, and asked one more question.

"Morton Gilbert, all I enjoy is praying and reading divinations. I don't like socializing, and I probably won't be much help with your business. Won't you get tired of that?"

Morton took my hand. His expression grew solemn.

"Ivy, it's you I want. What you choose to do with your time is your freedom. I will never grow tired of it."

"I know that reading fortunes and performing divinations drains your vitality. So I will never ask you to do anything for me—not even to seek wealth or ward off disaster."

In that moment, something unfamiliar stirred inside my chest. I found myself seeing Morton Gilbert in an entirely new light.

Everyone else worshipped me as the Oracle, desperate to pry fortunes and blessings from my lips. He was the only one who had ever considered what it cost me.

I nodded with conviction.

"Morton Gilbert, I accept."

"But let me handle a few things first before we make it public."

That very evening, I went to the Gilbert estate to retrieve my betrothal documents. The moment I stepped through the door, I saw the blessed jade pendant bracelet I'd given John tossed on the floor.

Thrown beside it were my betrothal documents and my personal belongings.

Celeste Pruitt was grinding the pointed heel of her stiletto into the paper bearing my birth date and destiny chart.

"Superstitious little jinx. I'll crush you under my foot and see what kind of trouble you can stir up then."

John Gilbert lounged on the sofa, utterly indifferent.